


Soul Full

by Val_Creative



Series: 30 Days of LGBT+ Pride Month 2019 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Demisexual Sam Winchester, Demisexuality, Dom/sub Undertones, Early in Canon, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Incest, Introspection, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sexual Fantasy, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 01:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Dean isn't talking to him. He's walking a razor's edge — Sam knows this, accepts this, and that the angels are just waiting to ice him at the drop of a hat. Maybe even Castiel.





	Soul Full

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A LITTLE MORE WINCESTIEL THAN I ORIGINALLY PLANNED FOR. BUT WHATEVER. IT'S ALL GOOD. If you enjoyed reading this, I would love to hear any comment/thought you had! 
> 
> (Also are you LGBT+ too? How are you celebrating Pride Month this year?)

 

 

*

Dean isn't talking to him.

Which is fine, because Sam can't explain away what happened. Even if he wanted to defend the lives in town, defeating Samhain, and inevitably using the demon powers he was directly told _not_ to.

But he _has_ to. Has to be stronger. Take on Lilith and save Dean. Save the planet from the looming start of the Apocalypse.

He's walking a razor's edge — Sam knows this, accepts this, and that the angels are just _waiting_ to ice him at the drop of a hat.

Maybe even Castiel.

Sam's fingers pluck away the leftover candy wrappers scattered across Dean's motel bed coverlet, dusting away the crumbs of chocolate. He sinks against bed-springs, on his left side, closing his eyes and turning his face to bury Dean's pillow. Something like the cheap, bland dollar-store soap they picked up earlier in the week. A little clinging odor of dried sweat.

He can smell on Dean when they moved in close physically — his big brother would get too drunk to give any lingering shits about avoiding _touchy-feely_ moment, crawling over him on a sofa and resting his head on Sam's thigh, warm and heavy, before falling asleep.

His hand traces faintly over the same thigh, Sam's nails softly rasping as they drag over muscle covered in faded, thick layer of denim.

Sam imagines that if Dean is unlucky enough while he's out purposely ducking the nearby area, he's getting new orders from Upstairs. They would send Castiel for it. Dean would sooner talk levelheaded to Mister Backwards-Tie than any other dick angel.

And how much _could_ they trust Castiel? He seemed… _sincere_ enough. Blunt when he spoke, unflinching in expression, but _good_. Sam could feel it, just as he felt the darkness inside himself. He was surprised that the angel with the blue, blue soul eyes could even grasp his hand, knowing what Sam was capable of, what he's done. Castiel is a little bit of Sam's type too. Not that Sam wants anything with sex _unless_ it includes a strong emotional bond.

Castiel did seem like he favored Dean, probably because there was no stronger bond than _putting back together_ someone's soul.

It prickles at him, maybe a little bit, but Sam doesn't blame him.

 _Favored Dean_ … angels were junkless, but how would it feel to Castiel to slide his mouth up against Dean's jaw? Stupidly awkward, hands fumbling at each other's clothes, for bare skin…

Sam vents a long, faint groan into the flattened pillow and rolls onto his back, reaching up for the button on his jeans.

Flicking it open. Shoving his hand underneath without unzipping completely.

Teeth bumping, and Dean's lips would graze the dappling of dark hair on Castiel's sternum, before re-melding and opening their mouths. Kiss him enough to give God's friggin' _warrior_ all the signals of what he wants, and then wait it out, wait for Castiel to answer back with responsive touches and throaty, growling noises. Would shove Dean down somewhere, on a public bench, claim Dean's neck underneath flipped-up collar of the leather jacket with biting, reddened marks, going in on human, corporeal urges.

Sam's cock lengthens, pressing against the fabric of his boxers.

The strokes and twists of his spit-slick hand — good, _so_ good, haven't rubbed one out solo in a long time, had a decent orgasm without the influence of Ruby's blood — and he ferociously yanks away his jeans to his thighs. Skin fevered, body tremoring as Sam's breathing grows louder, more needy.

Dean's legs parting, one leg crooked on where he laid on the steel bench, hips rutting and demanding friction. Green eyes lidded, unfocused. Castiel's palm holding his cheek, tilting his face. A smile would flit across Dean's features. A fucking happy _groan_ coming from him like he would be having the time of his life, at the mercy of a cosmic-powerful being addled with a sense of humor close to a brick wall. Wouldn't matter.

A shuddered hitch in Sam's next exhale, and he's gonna go off any minute now. Black floods hazel irises, the whites of his eyes.

Dean would still get his rocks off, like the goddamn exhibitionist he is, getting handfuls of Castiel's firm ass and jerkily dragging their crotches. Moaning into the shoulder of an ugly, beige trenchcoat, emptying inside his own underwear, damp, and warm enough still before his cum cools to irritatingly sticky. Dean would laugh into another clumsy, less doubtful kiss, ignoring the existence of the world for the pleasure-buzz thudding in his cranium and rhythm of their gasping breathes.

The feel of his balls tightening, the immediate spill of his cum rockets Sam back from his daydream, stretching out that orgasm with shutting eyes and relaxing muscles as he lazily jerks himself. Dislodged his left hand from gripping bruises into the meat of his thigh. Sam's nostrils fill with the indulgent musk of sex.

 _Reminder_.… grab the Febreze out from the bathroom and the extra, folded sheets off the closet rack. Make an excuse about splashing his "girly" coffee all over Dean's sheets.

Sam's eyes peek open, gleaming dark, amused.

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to 30 Days of NSFW but LGBT+ Pride edition where every single day is a LGBT+ identity that a character embodies or a relationship does that is the focus/perspective of the story canonly or fanonly. And of course today is [Day 8](https://demi-romantics.tumblr.com/post/185064517303/hello-lovelies-of-the-internetz-pride-month-2019) which is " **Demisexual** " and honestly I like to think Sam Winchester might be! Not canon though! Also doing [30 Day OTP Porn Challenge](https://chasingriversong.tumblr.com/post/39525363882/30-day-otp-porn-challenge) this is also Day 8 which is " **dominance/submission** " & this is a [prompt table](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/324470348128912730/) I'm using for June.


End file.
